_Nar._ Why would you have mee love? You talke most oddlye, Love is a naughty thinge & an ungodlye. _Cli._ Is love ungodlye? Love is still a god. _Nar._ But in his nonage allwaies vnder rodde. _Amb._ O love, Narcissus, wee beseech thee, O love. [380] _Nar._ Noe love, good gentiles, Ile assure you, noe love. [_Exeunt_ DORASTUS _et_ CLINIAS, _ambulat_ NARCISSUS. _Enter_ FLORIDA, CLOIS. Clois, what ist I wis that I doe see, [F. 74v rev.] What forme doth charme this storme within my breast, What face, what grace, what race may that same bee, So faire, so rare, debonaire, breeds this vnrest? How white, how bright, how light, like starre of Venus His beames & gleames so streames so faire between vs! _Clo._ 'Tis Venus sure, why doe wee stand and palter? Lett vs goe shake our thighes vpon the altar. _Flo._ Most brightest Hasparus, for thou seemst to mee soe, [390] I, and in very deed thou well maist bee soe, For as bigg as a man is every plannett, Although it seemes a farre that wee may spanne it, Shine thou on mee, sweet plannet, bee soe good As with thy fiery beames to warme my bloud; Ile beare thee light, and thinke light of the burthen, And say, light plannett neare was heavy lurden. _Nar._ To speake the truth, faire maid, if you will have vs, O Oedipus I am not, I am Davus. _Clo._ Good Master Davis, bee not so discourteous [400] As not to heare a maidens plaint for vertuous. _Nar._ Speake on a Gods name, so love bee not the theame. _Flo._ O, whiter then a dish of clowted creame, Speake not of love? How can I overskippe To speake of love to such a cherrye lippe? _Nar._ It would beseeme a maidens slender vastitye Never to speake of any thinge but chastitye. _Flo._ As true as Helen was to Menela So true to thee will bee thy Florida. [F. 74r rev.] _Clo._ As was to trusty Pyramus truest Thisbee [410] So true to you will ever thy sweete Clois bee. _Flo._ O doe not stay a moment nor a minute, Loves is a puddle, I am ore shooes in it. _Clo._ Doe not delay vs halfe a minutes mountenance That ar in love, in love with thy sweet countenance. _Nar._ Then take my dole although I deale my alms ill, Narcissus cannot love with any damzell; Although, for most part, men to love encline all, I will not, I, this is your answere finall. And so farwell; march on doggs, love's a griper, [420] If I love any, 'tis Tickler & Piper. Ah, the poore rascall, never ioyd it since His fellow iugler first was iugled hence, Iugler the hope; but now to hunte abraode, Where, if I meete loves little minitive god, Ile pay his breech vntill I make his bumme ake, For why, the talke of him hath turnd my stomacke. [_Exit._